Nervous Planning
by 8ronwen
Summary: How would Cullen and the Inquisitor act after their first kiss on the ramparts? Well, I like to think they'd be nervous dorks as per usual, so here you go. Harmless Cullen x Inquisitor fluff. Rated M to be safe.


With as much self-control as he could muster, Cullen pulled his lips away from Evelyn's. Though he lingered near her, forehead almost touching her own, hands holding her gently against by the waist.

Maker, but she was beautiful. Freckled cheeks stained a dark red, lips now wet and still partly open. He wanted to kiss her again. Needed to. But there was something about her that made his stomach flip with nerves, and Cullen frequently found himself stammering to the Herald like a fool boy rather than wooing her senseless, as was his intention.

"I'm sorry," he said, "that was… um… really nice."

"_That _was what I wanted." She purred in a confident tone that turned his legs to jelly. Cullen felt his mouth tugging into a smirk, and leaned forward once more with newly found confidence.

"Oh. Good."

He kissed her again. The first had been hard and surprising and full of a hunger that had left her gasping against his mouth. Partly because Jim's interruption had infuriated him, mainly because he'd been desperate to kiss her for months. Now Cullen took his time, savouring the softness of her lips. They were plumper than his, completely made for kissing. Evelyn let out a little moan and he took the opportunity to push his tongue into her mouth, gently poking and tasting. Hands tightened around her and he gave in completely to temptation, pressing his body against her own; practically leaning her over the rampart. Though Evelyn didn't seem to mind, and trusted Cullen to hold her whilst her eager hands silently urged him on, running up his chest, sinking into his hair, pulling him down further to her height so she gained better reach.

He was quickly getting lost in her, and the thought that they weren't exactly well hidden seeped from his mind. He could only think of Evelyn. After months of childish daydreaming, nights spent achingly awake imagining her, worrying constantly whenever she was away. Finally, she was in his arms, willing and delicious and –

Were those footsteps?

It was impossible for Evelyn to pull away from him, so she turned her head to one side with a little groan. Cullen followed her line of sight. Two soldiers were doing their rounds and marching down the stairs, looking unbelievably uncomfortable and staring at the sky as if another rift had broken loose.

Evelyn sighed, her hands left his hair and trailed down to his chest. Cullen was pleased to see he had successfully dishevelled her; hair was mussed, lips were slightly swollen, and what had been a soft lining of red on her cheeks had turned into a dark smear of crimson that spread right down to her neck and disappeared under her collar.

She looked perfect.

"We should probably –" She began to murmur.

"Right. Of course." He backed off straight away, and just like that his confidence vanished. The guards passed them without a word – though Cullen was sure gossip would fly – and left them in silence. But it wasn't like before, and now he wasn't sure if he could kiss her again, or what he should even say. His first instinct was to thank her, but when it came to women Cullen had learnt to completely _ignore _his first instinct. They never led him in the right direction.

"So I – er.." He rubbed the back of his neck whilst Evelyn fidgeted with her fingers. "We probably couldn't have picked a more obvious spot to do… that."

It was meant to be a joke, but neither of them laughed, and he made a mental note to ignore his second instinct in the future.

"I'm glad we did though," Evelyn said, better at this than him, but also sometimes a little awkward herself. "I mean, it was –"

"No! No. Me too. Glad, I mean. I'm very glad we did – I um, I should probably get back to work."

_Maker, no!_ Why had he said that?! Anything but that! Which instinct was he meant to trust with these matters? Because so far Cullen felt like he was making what had been a perfect moment an awkward puddle of mess.

"Right. Of course. Me too." Evelyn agreed with a little bob of her head, flashing him that crooked smile before she made to leave.

This was it, his last chance.

"Evelyn," Cullen reached out and caught her by the hand, turning her back, "maybe we could see each other later? This evening, perhaps?"

Her smile grew, and to his great relief she was stepping closer, once again in kissing distance. "I'd like that. Its wicked grace night at the tavern. You've not joined us for a game, yet."

"Oh. Well, I will, if that is what you wish. But I was thinking, maybe, it could – um, just be the two of us?"

"Oh! Of course! I mean – yes, yes that sounds lovely." They both laughed nervously. He started rubbing his neck again.

Cullen had imagined conversations with Evelyn becoming a whole lot easier once he knew she felt the same way about him as he did for her. But if anything he was even more uncertain. Before he'd had everything to gain. Now he had something to lose. The idea of messing up and getting his heart broken was too much to bear, and Cullen was determined to avoid it at all costs. He just had to be attentive, charming, the kind of person she wanted to be with. Surely if he could command a whole army with ease, he could successfully woo a woman already interested in him?

"Cullen?"

He realised then that her lips were moving, that she had been talking this entire time and he hadn't heard a single word. Panic tickled down his spine, and his mouth opened like a fish whilst Evelyn waited patiently for an answer.

"Um. Yes?" He said, guessing.

"Great. So you'll come to my quarters tonight?"

"I will? I – wait – I'm sorry. I didn't quite hear you. What were you saying?" He had to ask. As Cullen couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd just agreed on. Or maybe he could, and that was the problem. Evelyn was a Lady of noble birth, and so he assumed their ideas on bedroom activities differed greatly.

Her brow creased into a little frown, clearly annoyed at going unheard. It was something she was not use to after all. When you were The Herald of Andraste people tended to pay attention.

"I _said, _I thought we could eat together. I'll ask the cooks to take your dinner to my room instead of yours. Unless you'd rather do something else?"

"No! That sounds – the pleasure would be all mine, Evelyn." He was still holding her hand, and now he raised it to lay a whisper soft kiss against her knuckles. Cullen watched out for her reaction intently, and seeing Evelyn catch her breath encouraged him to go further. He pressed his lips to her palm, a much more intimate gesture that left him hungry for more. "I'll see you tonight." He murmured, closing her fingers around the kiss before letting go.

Cullen turned and began to head back to his office, quickly before he lost his nerves and did something stupid again. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder before opening the door, and was happy to see Evelyn still stood there, looking down and pressing her palm to her lips.

He smirked, maybe things would be easier now that he knew how she felt.


End file.
